commenced to read the debates.

"My dear Miss Blake," began Mr. Craven, after a minute's pause, "you
know my time, when it is mine, is always at your disposal, but at the
present moment several clients are waiting to see me, and--"

"Let them wait," said Miss Blake, as he hesitated a little. "Your time
and their time is no more valuable than mine, and I mean to stay
_here_," emphasising the word, "till you let me have that five pounds.
Why, look, now, that house is taken on a two years' agreement, and you
won't see me again for that time--likely as not, never; for who can tell
what may happen to anybody in foreign parts? Only one charge I lay upon
you, Mr. Craven: don't let me be buried in a strange country. It is bad
enough to be so far as this from my father and my mother's remains, but
I daresay I'll manage to rest in the same grave as my sister, though
Robert Elmsdale lies between. He separated us in life--not that she ever
cared for him; but it won't matter much when we are all bones and dust
together--"

"If I let you have that five pounds," here broke in Mr. Craven, "do I
clearly understand that I am to recoup myself out of Colonel Morris'
first payment?"

"I said so as plain as I could speak," agreed Miss Blake; and her speech
was very plain indeed.

Mr. Craven lifted his eyebrows and shrugged his shoulders, while he drew
his cheque-book towards him.

"How is Helena?" he asked, as he wrote the final legendary flourish